Chapter One

EXPECTO PATRONUM: also know as the patronus charm; the most famous and most powerful defensive charm.

"THE ORDER IS NOW LED BY A mudblood." whispered the Dark Lord. Every Death Eater sitting with him bowed their heads — frightened of what he might do. Voldemort played with the Elder Wand with his long, unnatural fingers.

"My Lord . . ." spoke Dolohov, his voice inaudible from the shaking. He cleared his throat before continuing. "the Mudblood's name is Hermione Granger."

"What a very futile information, Dolohov. Crucio." said the Dark Lord, not glancing at him as he screamed in agony. "Draco . . . anything you heard?" he turned his head to Draco, wearing a sly grin.

Draco, who sat on the right side of Voldemort, lifted his head upwards. He felt shivers as the grin did not halt. "One of the Weasleys died, My Lord; leaving seven behind." he declared, rather firmly than he intended. "He was also responsible for one of the Snatchers' death,"

After his father's death, Draco grabbed the chance to be the Dark Lord's most trustworthy Death Eater, together with Bellatrix Lestrange. It took quite a while given of the Dark Lord's speculation of their loyalty, but he regained what his father lost.

"Well done, Draco! You truly have the Black's blood running in you." exclaimed Bellatrix while clapping her hands happily. Draco ignored her as she complimented him.

Blaise Zabini raised his gaze, glancing over Malfoy; his eyebrows lifting briefly while his head was cocked to the side.

To his left sat the weedy-looking Theodore Nott. His eyes wandered across the window, spacing out from Voldemort's words. Nott used to be the clever loner boy who needn't join Malfoy's Gang, but after the Dark Lord killed his father, Draco had been the one to help him.

"It is . . . I presume time to go." the Dark Lord whispered before Disapparating away. Malfoy waited as each Death Eaters in the Dark Lord's inner circle also disapparated.

"Zabini, Nott." called Draco. The Manor has once again became shallow, and empty as the last Death Eater left.

"The biggest weasel in the Weasley family has died," Nott recounted, fiddling with his wand as he talked. He snorted as if remembering something. "The mudblood's boyfriend,"

"Never mention that word in front of me, Nott." Draco clenched his fists, adrenaline pumping in his veins. He sighed before continuing.

"Over the past months, the Order's mortality rate increased by five percent. They don't seem to know what they're getting into," uttered Zabini. "Longbottom is recruiting more members; unfortunately for them, Witches and Wizards have declined the offer — afraid of being massacred." Draco speculated why he doesn't speak in the Dark Lord's presence. But, Draco noticed, his eyes never met that of Voldemort's.

"Of course. Besides Slytherin, I can't seem to find courage in other houses; not even in Gryffindor." hissed Nott. "— bunch of cowards." he mumbled.

Draco gave out a sneer. It was an impressive sneer. Nott wondered if he practiced doing that in the mirror. "Slytherin remains superior, Nott. Moreover, the ongoing circumstances shouldn't discourage Granger, nor any member of the Order."

"How sure are you?"

Malfoy just shrugged, standing up with a smirk, ready to leave. He stopped midway, peering back at the two, "Meet me at the usual spot. Take Greengrass and Parkinson with you."

A series of jinxes flew around Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "Just . . . think of a happy memory." Hermione said, directing her words to George. The corner of her lips lifting slightly, trying her hardest to fake a smile. "Expecto Patronum." she muttered, a blinding, dazzling Terrier burst out of the end of her wand.

"It used to be an otter, doesn't it?" asked Luna in her serene tone. Hermione envied her for maintaining calm despite the situation they were in.

Both of them observed as George took a break, his eyes hopeless as he left.

The two made their way past Cho Chang who was practicing Disillusionment Charm on objects around her. Hermione roamed her eyes around Grimmauld Place. "Luna," she called out. The blonde diverted her gaze to her. "Do you comstantly feel so . . . hopeless?" she admitted

"Every problem passes, Hermione." Luna gave out a deep sigh. "The Dark Lord will never win. Nobody wins at wars."

"I never imagined a life without Harry nor Ron, but here I am." she confessed to Luna.

"Incarcerous!" cried Neville. Array of ropes burst out of his wand, tying Dean Thomas to the ground.

"You better remove this," he scoffed, resisting the ropes.

"Good," she complimented, Neville looked quite pleased with himself. "Finite Incantatem! Now try Avis." she smiled bitterly while remembering the charm she used to attack Ron back in 6th Year.

"You need to keep moving forward, just like how they want you to." Luna muttered, giving her an encouraging smile. This is all what Hermione ever needed, someone optimistic to give her hope.

"Thanks, Luna." she said, patting her friend's shoulder. "Let's take a break, shall we?" as if on cue, Mrs. Weasley entered with a tray of food in her hands. She looked rather paler than usual, making her red and puffy eyes stand out.

Everybody moved across the Dining Area where Kreacher was cleaning the counter. "Miss Granger! Kreacher has practiced more spells like how Miss Granger asked Kreacher to." he said cheerfully while bowing down low. His bat-like ears touched the polished floor.

"You're doing a splendid job, Kreacher." she replied as she took a sit on the table. They waited for the members to arrive before Professor McGonagall spoke.

"What are your plans, Miss Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall who sat proud of her student. Her voice was still strict, causing a slight nostalgic thought. Ronald Weasley's death also troubled her.

"I have been thinking about this for a while now. . ." she cleared her throat before continuing. "We are all aware how You-Know-Who survived despite killing all his seven Horcruxes. That leaves me into conclusion. Harry —" her voice broke, but she continued, keeping herself together. "Harry told me about it, how one must commit murder to split their soul — the only alternative to achieve immortality. From what I remembered, Professor Slughorn mentioned that the limit is—"

"Six." McGonagall interrupted. She still wasn't used to the topic, remembering that Dumbledore banned its discussion. "The Horcrux, the wickedest of magical inventions—that of which included the founder of the four houses' possessions."

"Except Gryffindor's." Luna added.

"Hermione, dear; if my speculations aren't correct, you're saying that . . . there's an eighth Horcrux?" asked Mrs. Weasley. She looked skeptical.

Hermione pushed her brown locks behind her ears. "Yes, it's attainable." she declared with reluctance.

"How?" someone asked. "If I'm keen to remember, you told us that six is the limit."

"But Harry was the seventh." spoke George. His eyes were redder than his hair.

"Which means, we never know just how much You-Know-Who can split his soul, given that six is the set, he was capable of dividing his soul into seven." explained Neville. He quickly stood up in realization. "It makes sense!"

"Clever calculations, Miss Granger." said Professor McGonagall. "But we don't identify the possibilities of it. Unknown paths may lead to great downfall."

"What d'you reckon will the eighth Horcrux be?" Bill asked while brushing his daughter's hair.

"If zere really is. 'Ermione what if zere wasn't? We will sacrifice 'undreds of lives for nozzing!" protested Fleur while holding Victoire on her hands. The two-year-old Victoire looked much like Fleur; she was caressing the big bump on her mother's stomach.

"The point of war is to sacrifice, Fleur; even if there's no certainty." Replied Hermione, directing her words to everybody sitting on the table.

"It's only right to inform the others about this," stated Professor McGonagall. Hermione hates to admit it, but the former Professor was growing weak every day, sometimes unable to stand on her own without the help of someone — something the ex-professor bantered about.

"I'll go, Professor." George volunteered.

"Arthur and Shacklebolt cast charms at the Burrow, making it really hard to find, even for the Order." said Mrs. Weasley, rubbing her eyes. "I'll come with you."

Hermione divided the Order since Grimmauld Place is not enough for the whole members. The Burrow was lead by her most trustworthy friend, Ginny, whom she expected was also in a train wreck.

"How certain are you, Hermione?" asked Luna.

"Partly." she admitted, bottles of sweat forming on her forehead.

"What's your meeting for?" asked Nott as they reached Draco's flat. He laid down on one of his couch and made himself comfortable.

"Where the hell is Parkinson and Greengrass?" asked Draco impatiently.

"Having girl talks, probably." joked Zabini, getting an apple from the counter. He threw one to Draco which he gladly ate.

They heard a loud crack in the flat. "Are we late?" asked Astoria Greengrass, Pansy grabbed the apple from Zabini's grip and took a bite out of it. Zabini scowled before taking it back.

"Very, Greengrass." they sat in circles around the living room. Draco swished his wand, casting a Muffling Charm around it.

"What's the news about the Order?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

"Ronald Weasley is dead." uttered Draco. A memory of the Slytherins singing "Weasley is Our King" came back in his mind. He saw how Pansy clapped her hands on her mouth, and Astoria's eyes widening. He needn't to taunt him, he would, in fact, never stoop down to insult a deceased fellow.

"They . . . they're in pieces!" shouted Pansy in surprise.

"How are they going to defeat the Dark Lord in their current state?" muttered Astoria.

"We help them, obviously." spoke Zabini as if pointing out that the two were stupid.

"We can't help them with the position we are in, especially you. You're the Dark Lord's right hand-man." said Nott, addressing to Draco. He fell silent for a few seconds before announcing his plan out.

"Greengrass is not part of the inner circle which means she doesn't have the Dark Mark, same as you, Parkinson." he explained. The others showed him a look that suggested we-already-know-that. He made a frustrated groan before continuing. "Which makes it easier for them to trust you. Greengrass, you're all in likelihood the first one they'll trust, since you're two levels below Granger back in Hogwarts."

"And . . . ?" she added stupidly.

"Can't you understand?" He ran a palm on his pale, pointed face, letting out an exasperated sigh. "You're barely part in any of the Order's life. Parkinson, you are presumably the one they'll lock up in a cell, given of your reputation."

"She deserved it, Malfoy." she hissed at him. "And what if she kills us?" Draco completely ignored her question and proceeded.

"Then, we enter and earn their trust." Draco pointed at the boys, who were staring intently at Draco, waiting for his next words.

"And?"

"And we succor them without the Dark Lord knowing."

"Are you saying . . . we betray the Dark Lord?"

"Precisely, Parkinson."

If you remembered the scene in the book (Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows), Ron mentioned something about Voldemort's name being Taboo, that's why none of the Order spoke his name. :)

Taboo

• A curse that reveals the speaker's location.

If you find things confusing, just drop an inline comment and I'll clear your questions! Adieu!

-scyrene